Drama Queen

by Tamsyn Murray

  Liam got up and brushed the sand off his shorts. “Stay away from the sea, okay? I don’t want to get it in the neck because you’ve gone and drowned yourself.”

  He vanished into the dunes, leaving me with a TON of things to think about. As much as I hated to admit it, a lot of what he’d said made sense. Maybe it was time I took a leaf out of Molly’s book and started giving a little bit back.

  I have decided that I must have been a mermaid in a former life. It is the only way I can explain my sudden yet deep-seated love of the sea. We spent all afternoon at the beach and Dad persuaded me to have my very first surfing lesson. I wasn’t sure initially but I guess Miss Skelly’s PMA mantra is really starting to sink in because I decided to give it a go.

  Our teacher was this really cool girl called Alex, who I guessed was about seventeen or eighteen and looked like she might have been a mermaid in a previous life too, all wavy blonde tresses and sea-green eyes. I think Liam agrees because he could not stop looking at her and went red every time she spoke to him.

  The first thing we learned was how to balance, face down, on our boards. Wait – actually, the first thing we learned was how to put on a wetsuit because even in the summer, the sea is cold. Wearing a wetsuit basically involves climbing into a second skin – a chilly, super-tight second skin that does not want to be climbed into and fights you at every stage. But eventually, we battled them into submission. Then Alex taught us how to paddle across the waves close to the shore and how to pick out the good waves from the bad.

  “You need to feel each wave,” she said, her eyes scanning the sea. “Learn the way they rise and fall and make them your friend.”

  I half expected Liam to snort with laughter but he was nodding like it was the wisest thing he’d ever heard. That was when I knew he was trying to impress her. Still, I couldn’t really blame him – she was super cool. If I was a wave I’d be her friend.

  Next, she showed us how to crouch on the board. Liam tried to show off and wiped out almost right away. He surfaced, coughing and spluttering. Alex waded over to check on him. Learning from his mistake, I visualized myself standing on the board and slowly pushed myself up.

  “Epic work, Cassie,” Alex said, looking pleased. “You’ve got really good posture too.”

  Mum actually cheered in her deckchair. Liam glared at me, as though I was doing it on purpose to make him look bad. “You gotta either go hard or go home, that’s what I say. YOLO, right?”

  Honestly, sometimes I think he really is an alien.

  “What are you talking about?” I said, dredging up as much scorn as I could manage. “What even is YOLO?”

  He fired a pitying look my way. “It stands for You Only Live Once. Don’t you know anything?”

  It sounded like typical Liam rubbish. He is such a MORON and I’m sure he makes most of this stuff up – of course we only live once, we are not cats.

  “I don’t need YOLO,” I told him, paddling my board into the waves once more. “I’ve got a PMA.”

  He mumbled something back but I was too busy watching the waves to listen. Spotting a good one, I pushed myself upright, rode my board into the shallows and jumped neatly off.

  “Awesome, Cassie!” Alex shouted, giving me a round of applause that Liam grudgingly joined in with. “You’ve got it!”

  I felt a warm glow of pride but obviously I couldn’t take all the credit. Who knew Miss Skelly’s PMA would work for surfing as well as acting? And I couldn’t wait to tell Molly her visualization trick had worked.

  “Did I tell you I’m in a band?” Liam said to Alex as we walked back to the surf school building with our boards. “We’re called WOLF BRETHREN because we answer the call of the wild.”

  I had to bite my lip really hard not to giggle. That kind of chat-up line might work on Molly or one of his other fans but Alex was used to hanging with loads of cool surfer types. She wasn’t going to be interested in Liam, no matter what he said the band did.

  “That’s great,” she said, smiling. “What do you play?”

  I could practically see Liam’s chest swell. “Guitar. But I’m also the lead singer. We rock pretty hard, right, Cass?”

  I thought carefully before I answered. On one hand, it was a solid-gold opportunity to get Liam back for all the insults and sneers he’d sent my way in the last few weeks. But on the other, he’d been almost helpful earlier when we’d talked about Dad, and WOLF BRETHREN were almost legends at St Jude’s. So I nodded. “Yeah. They rock.”

  It turned out Alex played the guitar too so they swapped stories all the way back to the surf school.

  “Same time tomorrow?” Alex said, once we were out of our wetsuits.

  “You’d better believe it,” Liam said, raising one eyebrow and smiling. “Watch out, surf-rats. The sea wolf is on the prowl.”

  OMG, that line is cheesier than Rolo’s breath. Liam is such a dumb salami!

  Chapter Ten

  The weirdest thing happened on Friday morning. I was walking past the waterpark with Rolo, trying to stop him from eating a rose bush, when I heard Dad’s name mentioned. There was a man talking into a mobile phone, looking at the poster. My first instinct was to run but something made me sidle closer. I really hoped Rolo would understand we were in STEALTH MODE or my cover was going to be blown sky-high.

  “Yeah, The Power of Presley,” the man said into the handset. “We saw it last night and it’s a cracking show – this guy practically is The King! Just get here for nine o’clock tonight. It’s almost sold out already.”

  He wandered away, leaving me staring after him in amazement. Almost sold out? Had I heard that right? Wow. Maybe it was time to find out what The Power of Presley was all about.

  “I think it’s a great idea,” Mum said, when I got back to the caravan and asked her about watching Dad perform. Dad and Liam had taken the twins to the soft play area and it was just me and her. “You might be pleasantly surprised. I know I was, all those years ago.”

  I don’t know if you’ve ever tried to imagine how your parents got together but it’s totally weird. For one thing, they were obviously never young and have always looked like they do now. It’s also a bit icky to imagine them being all LOVEY-DOVEY with each other. If Mum ever thought Dad looked HOT in his Elvis get-up then her love goggles must have been seriously strong. She hardly ever talks about how they met, something I’m usually glad about because, let’s face it, it’s got “CRINGESOME TO THE MAX” written all over it.

  “Of course, he was a lot slimmer in those days,” she said, a wistful look in her eyes. “And I had a thing about singers. He looked like Robbie from TAKE THAT, or what Robbie would have looked like if he’d ever dressed up as Elvis, and he picked me out of the audience to sing LOVE ME TENDER. That was it – I was hooked.”

  The whole conversation should have been setting off every awkwardness klaxon known to mankind but somehow it wasn’t. Maybe it was because I’d never heard this story before, or maybe because it was making me see yet another side of my dad I hadn’t known was there.

  “When was the last time you went to see him perform?” I asked.

  She laughed and rubbed her forehead in a tired way. “Oh, not since before the twins were born. Hang on, maybe not since before you were born. I used to take Liam with me sometimes but it got too difficult once there were two of you.”

  I thought back to what Liam had said the day before. I cringed every time I saw Dad in his Elvis outfit so he must realize how embarrassing I found it. But how would I feel if the tables were turned and Dad refused to come and see me deliver my single line in the EDDDA show?

  “So you think I should be more supportive too,” I said.

  She smiled. “I think Dad would love it if you went to see him perform. Why don’t you ask Liam, see if he wants to go too?”

  “Because then I would have to admit I know him and be seen with him in public,” I said, in the same tone of voice I used on the twins.

  Mum threw me a weary look. “Just g
o and catch the performance, Cassie. Who knows, you might actually learn something.”

  And that’s when she pushed it too far. I mean SERIOUSLY, what kind of world would it be if we all went around LEARNING STUFF from our parents?

  I didn’t know what to expect when I took my seat in the Starlight Bar to watch Dad’s show. I mean OBVIOUSLY I had some idea – there’d be a lot of Elvis for a start and probably some ridiculously embarrassing hip thrusts but I didn’t know whether I was about to enjoy myself or DIE trying. I was determined to stay positive, though – my PMA was starting to kick in and I wasn’t about to give it up.

  The bar was packed – almost every table was full. I’d expected it to be mostly old people but there were quite a few younger guests too. Strictly speaking, under-fourteens weren’t allowed in the bar unaccompanied after nine o’clock but they bent the rules for me since technically, I’d be in the same room as Dad, just not right next to him. I couldn’t really escape from sitting with Liam, though. He’d clearly got the MEMO about pretending not to know each other because he completely ignored me and that suited me fine.

  I thought I spotted Alex, working behind the bar, and judging from the way Liam kept looking around, he’d seen her too. But then the lights dimmed and a single spotlight lit the stage. “Ladies and Gentlemen, Happy Sands Holiday Village Newquay is proud to welcome to the stage, THE POWER OF PRESLEY!”

  Music began to pound out of the speakers and I recognized the start of A LITTLE LESS CONVERSATION, one of Dad’s favourite songs. He bounded onto the stage and grabbed the microphone, dropping Liam and me a huge wink before he started to sing.

  I never thought I’d say this but Dad is an awesome Elvis! He was so good that I almost forgot he was my dad and actually started to believe he was The King. What was even cooler is that the audience clearly thought he was amazing too – they whooped and clapped and cheered so much that he had to do two encores. One woman threw a pair of pants at the stage – I’m SO glad Rolo was safely back at the caravan with Mum or there might have been a KNICKER NICKING DISASTER.

  Anyway, Dad totally owned the stage and it’s pretty obvious where Liam gets his love of performing from. I suppose that’s where mine comes from too, although I’m definitely not feeling the love as much as I was before I missed out on Lena. I’m really starting to get what Molly meant when she said fame costs – a true performer dusts themselves off after each setback and tries again, no matter how rubbish they feel. Dad hadn’t let a failed audition hold him back – he’d just worked even harder. Maybe I COULD learn something from him after all.

  “Well?” Dad asked, when he met us outside the stage door, minus his Elvis outfit and looking normal again. “What did you think – any good?”

  “Good?” I squeaked. “You were brilliant!”

  Liam held out a fist. “Yeah, nice one.”

  As we started to walk back to the caravan, Dad and I chatted about the show but Liam kept looking over his shoulder. “Listen, I think I might just go back and – um – check whether I left my phone behind.”

  Sometimes his stupidity amazes even me. “The one that’s in your hand, you mean?” I said, staring at him in disbelief. “That phone?”

  His face flamed red. Ignoring me, he turned and hurried back towards The Hub.

  “Let him go,” Dad said, grinning. “There’ll be a girl involved, I expect.”

  Poor Alex, I thought. But I didn’t mind that Liam was about to make a GIGANTIC fool of himself because it gave me the chance to say something that had been on my mind from the moment Dad had started his performance. Taking a deep breath, I blurted out my apology.

  “I’m sorry I shouted at you yesterday for working here. And I’m sorry I said that your quiff looked like you bought it in the Pound Shop, and that your suit is two sizes too small. I don’t really cry myself to sleep wishing you were like Molly’s dad and…and…well, if you tell anyone this I will deny everything but sometimes I like it when you sing Elvis around the house.”

  Dad chuckled. “It’s okay, I understand,” he said, patting me on the arm. “Believe it or not, I was your age once and my parents were just as embarrassing.”

  It is practically impossible to imagine your parents as children, even when there is photographic evidence that they have not always been ancient. And it is even more impossible to imagine your grandparents when they were young.

  “Really?” I said, wondering what terrible crimes of fashion and/or parenting my father had suffered. “Why?”

  He shrugged. “They were ballroom dancers. They used to enter these contests and dragged me along to watch, when all my friends were listening to the pop charts. It took me a long time to realize that they were actually really good dancers.”

  I tried to picture my grandparents doing STRICTLY COME DANCING and failed. “Oh.”

  “Eventually I realized I hated the music they played on the radio,” Dad went on. “The stuff I loved best was on the crackly old records my dad used to play on a Sunday afternoon. They made me want to be a singer when I grew up.”

  “So how come you only sing Elvis?” I asked, because I couldn’t help thinking it would have been pretty cool if Dad had become a famous pop star instead. We’d have our own helicopter and a huge house and I’d have more knickers than Rolo could get through in a lifetime.

  “Someone told me I’d make a really good Elvis. Of course, plenty of people said I’d be a terrible Elvis, too. But I practised and watched a lot of Elvis performances and eventually, I got into his head and the bookings started to roll in.” He smiled. “I suppose you could say it’s my THING.”

  I smiled back. “Being Elvis is TOTALLY your thing.”

  He twisted his lip in his weird Power of Presley way and did an over-exaggerated hip thrust. “Uh huh huh.”

  Okay, so maybe he can still be a bit embarrassing. But you know what? I think I can live with that.

  I’ve slipped into a routine in the four days we’ve been here. In the morning, I take Rolo for a stroll along the beach and help Mum with the twins. Dad is basking in the glow of his new-found fame and even has people coming to ask him for autographs – it is totally insane.

  In the afternoon, I hang around the waterpark pretending not to know Liam, or I join in with one of the activities. Shenice is going to be so proud of me when I show her the certificate I got from Crusty and the Crab Crew for helping them to clear up abandoned cans and plastic bottles. It’s even signed by Crusty himself, although how he could even hold the pen with those pincers is a mystery. Then, at four o’clock every day, we go surfing with Alex.

  Surfing is the best, I messaged Molly and Shenice on Saturday, after our third lesson. Believe it or not, I know how to paddle out, pop up onto the board and ride a proper wave now! I can change direction too. It’s definitely not Liam’s thing – he can hardly stand up and keeps bailing before he wipes out. Dad says he’s eaten more sand than a camel this week. Oh, and he’s scared of jellyfish! He claims he’s not but he goes all funny when he sees one on the beach.

  Our teacher says I’m a natural surfer, which I’m totally stoked about. She says I should keep learning but I don’t see how I can unless there is a secret beach in Windsor I don’t know about. So I’m just living in the moment and enjoying it while I can.

  How are rehearsals going?

  C xx

  Total nightmare, Molly messaged me. No one knows the dances, Fat Sam’s hoodlums have got some kind of feud going on and I think Miss Skelly hates me. Shenice is mooning around after Harry like he’s some kind of rock star. He might be a good actor but he’s definitely no Liam. M xx

  Hi Cass. OMG, you won’t believe how badly things are going! Shenice texted. Harry and me are fine but Molly spends all her time moaning on about how much she misses Liam. She’s obsessed with the idea that he’s going to have a holiday fling – honestly, what does she see in him? Harry is a big Wolf Brethren fan, btw.

  Hurry up and come home – I miss you! Harry says HI! S xx

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nbsp; I genuinely have no idea what Molly sees when she looks at Liam and I’m pretty sure Alex doesn’t see it either. She is way too cool to notice him – she’s quite possibly the coolest person in the entire universe. On Sunday morning, I saw her catching some waves when I took Rolo for his walk and she is totally amazing. I want to be her when I grow up.

  I made Rolo sit down while I watched her work the water. I really got what she meant about being one with the wave – she looked like she’d been carved out of glass as she rode across the surface of the sea and then she did this epic jump. Rolo seemed impressed too, because he sat really still until she waded to the shore.

  Most people think all dogs love water: Rolo is not one of those dogs. In fact, he has an extreme aversion to water – as we discovered the first time we put him in the bath and almost flooded the kitchen underneath. He hates it, from the smallest speck of rain to the undignified soaking with the hosepipe that has replaced the indoor bath. All of which made it even more ASTONISHING that he apparently decided today was the day he was going to feel the fear and do it anyway. Jumping up, he lurched forwards, tugging the lead out of my relaxed fingers. It was the last thing I was expecting him to do.

  “Rolo!” I bellowed as he took off across the sand. “Get back here, you bad dog!”

  He bounded away, tail held high, aiming for the water as though his fur was on fire. I raced after him, hoping he would lose interest in whatever had caught his eye. No such luck – his beady eyes were fixed on Alex as she waded to shore and he tore across the sand like she was made of cheese. “Rolo, NO!”